


Worst Kept Secret

by OfficialStarsandGutters



Category: Shameless (US)
Genre: Day 7: Others Finding Out About Them, GW2017A, Gallavich Week, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-09
Updated: 2017-06-09
Packaged: 2018-11-12 04:22:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,245
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11154159
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OfficialStarsandGutters/pseuds/OfficialStarsandGutters
Summary: For Gallavich Week Day Seven: Others Finding Out About Them*Iggy knows something is up from the very beginning. Ian does not act like any of the other boys that hover around his sister like flies.Ian does not steal clandestine glances at Mandy. Who he stares at, is Mickey.





	Worst Kept Secret

**Author's Note:**

> I didn't love this prompt, but I wanted to fill every day of Gallavich week.  
> I don't love this piece either, but I hope you find some enjoyment in it.

**Iggy**

Iggy knows something is up from the very beginning. Ian does not act like any of the other boys that hover around his sister like flies. For one, he doesn't seem particularly scared of him, or any of his other brothers. For another, he actually spends time with Mandy in the shared area of their house, rather than stumbling from front door to bedroom, eager to get his sleazy hands down his little sister's pants. Instead he finds them doing homework at the kitchen table, or huddled together watching movies on the couch, or tryna make some kinda fuckin' brownies in their kitchen.

The brownies are pretty good, actually, and they turn out to be pot laced, which makes them even better.

Mandy sits with her feet in Ian's lap, or leaning her back against his shoulder, the same kinda way she sits with Mickey. There's no hands on thighs, around shoulders, inching towards breasts. Iggy watches, y'see. He knows people think he's dumb, but he's quietly perceptive. He watches Ian and Mandy laugh together, play games together, talk to each other in silly voices. Never kiss, rarely hold hands, and when they are in Mandy's room, mostly they just listen to music.

Ian does not steal clandestine glances at Mandy. Who he stares at, is Mickey.

At first Iggy mistakes this for fear or worry. Thinks perhaps, after all the shit Mickey gets up to down at the Kash and Grab, perhaps he is the only one Ian is afraid of. Then he finds Ian sandwiched between Mickey and Mandy on the couch while they loudly swear at each other over him, and he looks fuckin' relaxed as anything, comfortable, like he's perfectly content to be jammed between two Milkovich siblings, receiving alternating elbows to the ribs as they wildly move their controllers around.

Iggy shakes his head, stumbles past, and just before they're out of view he sees Ian side glance at Mickey and smile. It's a small, dorky, secretive smile. Iggy doesn't think much of it, but he can't help but wonder.

*

“Why'd we never follow through on that shit with Gallagher? I thought you wanted him dead.”

“Changed my mind.”

“But you said-”

“I say a lot of shit. Fuckin' drop it and let's go already.” Mickey rolls the car window down and lights up, glaring back at the building he's just left. “Spent fuckin' long enough at this shithole.”

“Shouldn't have punched that cop, then.”

“You're defendin' pigs now? Shut up an' drive.”

“Okay, Rhianna.”

*

“The fuck happened to you?” Iggy asks, taking in the state of Mickey, bruised and bloody. Mickey stares at him. Beneath the swelling of his face, his mouth is a thin line of displeasure.

“Jesus Christ, Mickey,” Mandy says, moving around Iggy to get a closer look. “Are you okay?”

“'M fuckin' fine.” Mickey looks away, scowling.

“What happened?” Mandy asks this time, softer than Iggy, leaning close to him. Mickey's eyes flick up to her, and Iggy catches the flash of vulnerability before they harder again.

“Dad pistol whipped me.”

“What'd you do this time?” Iggy asks.

“Since when do you ever have to do anything with that asshole.”

Mandy leaves it. Iggy says no more, but he notices Mickey stops going to work, notices the Gallagher kid is nowhere to be seen.

He feels like there's something, just beyond his grasp.

“Hey. Did what happen have somethin' to do with you and Gallagher?”

Mickey looks at him, wide eyed, scared but dangerous.

“The fuck you talkin' bout?”

“Just ever since that happened you ain't been hangin' out with him. You two used to be fuckin' attached at the hip.”

“You don't know what you're sayin',” Mickey says, and his voice is low, the threat unspoken but clear. Iggy holds his hands up.

“Eh, man. Just askin'.”

“Well don't.”

So he doesn't.

*

Iggy loses count of how many times Mickey casually drops into conversation questions about Ian Gallagher. Any chance he gets he asks Mandy if she's heard of him, or knows where he is, or where he went. All the while avoiding eye contact and using a practised casual tone.

“You worried 'bout him?” he asks. Mickey glares at him.

“'Course I ain't fuckin' worried, just curious.”

Iggy doesn't believe him.

*

“Hey.”

“I don't have any drugs, Ig.”

“Nah, I wanna ask you about Gallagher.”

“Lip?”

“Ian.”

“What do you wanna know about Ian for? Has Mickey sent you?”

“Nah, Mick's why I'm askin', though. Was there somethin' up with them?”

“What do you mean... Something?” Mandy looks at him with narrowed eyes. Iggy raises his brows, suggestive. They stare each other down.

“Were they fuckin'?” Iggy says after a long stretch of silence.

“Yeah.”

“I knew it!”

“How could you know that?”

“It was obvious.”

“I didn't know.”

“That's 'cause you're very self absorbed, sis.”

Iggy dives out of the room as she throws her shoe at him.

*

Ian Gallagher comes back _hot_. Iggy's still half asleep when he staggers past him with ruffled hair and smokey eyes, no longer the fluffy haired freckle face that used to look squashed and out of place between Mickey and Mandy. He's shot up, developed some more lean muscle, gotten a haircut, and his face has become more angular and less freckled. Milk drips from the corner of Iggy's mouth as he watches him pass by.

“Mornin',” Ian says, jovial.

“Hey,” Iggy manages back. He hears the sound of the shower running, then sees Svetlana follow him in with a hammer. Ah, the things that happen in this house.

*

“Your boyfriend got hot,” Iggy says, leaning in the doorway of Mickey's room. Mickey turns, eyes wide, eyebrows climbing towards his hairline, face flushed with indignation.

“The fuck'd you say-”

“Relax. It's cool. Gallagher's been givin' you heart eyes since he and Mandy first started kickin' around, you think I didn't notice?”

“I don't know what you're-”

“Mick.” Iggy slaps him on the shoulder. “It's cool.”

Mickey looks back at him for several seconds in silence, before he just nods. Iggy smiles. Mickey manages a tentative smile back.

“Wait, what'dya mean he's hot?”

 

**Carl**

When Mickey wakes up, he jerks back suddenly, bringing his arms up to shield himself. Standing at the edge of Ian's bed, Carl watches this with amusement. Mickey groans and rubs at his tired eyes.

“The fuck are you doin'?”

“Are you Ian's boyfriend?”

“What?”

“You're sleepin' in his bed.”

“Didn't I tell you about askin' stupid questions,” Mickey says, getting out of the bed. His expression is not much different from the animals Carl used to corner when he was younger. His eyes dart around looking for an escape route, wide, calculating. Carl steps closer. Mickey's shoulders rise and stiffen, and Carl realises he is not like those trapped animals, because Mickey Milkovich is not prey. They are both predators, squaring up to each other, silent challenge.

“Yeah but Ian didn't gimme a proper answer, so I'm askin' you.”

“What does it matter?”

“Well if you are and you get to sleep in Ian's bed then Fiona can't say anything about Bonnie stayin' with me.”

“'Cept I don't come with a fuckin' collection of Lost Boys.”

“So, are you datin' my brother?”

“I dunno. I guess.”

“Do you plunge his toilet?”

“Whaaat the fuck?”

“Or does he plunge yours? I guess it's cool either way. You're much cooler than the old guy. Y'know, Jimmy's dad? Jimmy said Ian's cock was in his mouth. He's so old, though. That's kinda gross. But you're cool.”

“I- Alright, this is too fuckin' weird. Can you just get out of my way so I can take a piss.” Mickey pushes Carl to the side and steps past him. Carl grins, turning easily and trailing after him to stand at the bathroom door.

“So are you gonna be stayin' here then?”

“I dunno. For a while.”

“You're pretty good at fightin' and stuff, right?”

“I guess.”

“Can you teach me some stuff?”

There is only the sound of Mickey's piss hitting water until he's done. He flushes, pulls his boxers up, and then turns to Carl with a sigh.

“Fine, but don't tell your brother.”

“I don't think it's good to keep secrets in a relationship,” Carl says.

“Fuck you, Dr Phil,” Mickey says, and flips him off.

 

**Mandy**

Mandy stands, shocked, hurt and drunk, in the midst of Mickey's wedding reception. She watches Lip drag Ian away, watches as he breaks and starts to cry, and she feels like an idiot. All the pieces slam into place, suddenly so clear. If she had of paid more attention, if she hadn't of been so wrapped up in the mess between her and Lip. It was right there, in front of her. For fuck sake, Ian was constantly asking about Mickey.

“Hey, babe. Forget about him. Let's dance,” Kenyatta says, reaching for her. Mandy swats him away.

“I need to go to the bathroom,” she says, absently. She doesn't feel like she's in control of her body as she stumbles away. This is why Ian was asking so many questions about the wedding. This is why he's been so upset lately; moody, drinking constantly, skipping school.

She leans into the bathroom sink and breathes heavy, staring at her own wide, dark ringed eyes in the mirror. She's been a fuckin' idiot. Ian's been hurting. Fuck, 'the person you _love_ '. Ian's in love with her brother and she'd been pushing him to come to the wedding, to witness Mickey swearing himself to someone else. She can only imagine how this whole thing must be tearing him apart, and she hadn't noticed. Her best friend, and she hadn't even realised something was wrong.

“Shit.” She pushes her hair back, lets out a long exhale. Somehow, the news that Mickey's gay doesn't seem as surprising as it should. Mostly, she's just worried about their dad finding out. Maybe that's why he got married in the first place. Maybe the wedding's a cover up.

Things are starting to make sense.

*

“Really? That's all you're going to say to him?” Mandy feels herself swell with rage. She hadn't meant to eavesdrop on their conversation, but when she'd heard them talking, she didn't want to interrupt. The hurt in both their voices made her chest ache, but Mickey had power in this situation. If Mickey would just fuckin' tell him how he feels, ask him to stay, then maybe Mandy wouldn't have to lose her best friend. Mickey just looks at her, silent and red eyed. “You're a fuckin' pussy.”

*

“What did you hear earlier?”

“Enough,” Mandy says, refusing to look at Mickey. His voice is soft, hesitant. He hovers near her, running his fingers nervously along the counter top.

“It's not what you think.”

“What I _thought_ was that my brother had some fuckin' balls, but apparently I was wrong.”

“I've got a wife.”

“Who you barely even fuckin' look at.”

“He doesn't want to stay.” Mickey's voice raises, but cracks half way through. Mandy finally looks at him. His eyes are going pink again. It's been years since she's seen her brother cry.

“He wanted you to give him a reason,” she says, softer now, sympathetic.

“I'm not a good enough reason.”

Mandy hugs him, hard, pretends not to notice the muffled sob against her shoulder.

 

**Liam**

Liam sits on his bed, looking at the two figures across from him. One is Ian, who he knows. The other is a dark haired boy he has seen before, but has never talked to him. Liam watches as the dark haired boy sits up and brushes Ian's hair away from his forehead. Ian stirs. He yawns.

“Mornin',” he says in a sleepy voice.

“Hey.” The dark haired boy talks so quiet Liam almost doesn't hear. Then he kisses Ian.

Now that someone is awake to take him downstairs, Liam slips off the bed. The dark haired boy shifts back at the sound, but Liam's looking at Ian. He pads across the room and climbs up onto the bed, sitting on Ian's legs.

“Hey buddy.”

“Hungie,” Liam says, quietly, giving a shy glance to the other boy.

“Alright, kid. You wanna go downstairs with Mickey and I'll make you some breakfast in a minute?”

“Ickey?” Liam tilts his head. Ian laughs. Liam likes that sound. He smiles in response, touches the corner of Ian's mouth.

“Mickey,” Ian says, slower. “Mmmmickey.”

“Mmm. Ickey!”

“Close enough.”

Mmm. Ickey has pulled on sweatpants now. He's wearing one of Ian's hoodies. It's too big on him. Liam looks up at him, still shy.

“It's okay,” Ian says softly, mouth against his ear. His breath tickles. “Mickey's nice.”

Mickey looks at Ian for a long moment, before he turns to Liam and smiles.

“Okay lil man, you wanna come downstairs and get some juice?”

“Yes!” Liam reaches up, and Mickey lifts him. He waves at Ian over Mickey's shoulder as he's carried out of the room.

“You love Ian?” Liam asks, thinking of the kiss. He likes getting kisses. Fifi and Ian and everyone else kisses him, and they all love him, so this Ickey guy must love Ian if the first thing he wants to do when he wakes up isn't get juice or eggs or toast, but is to kiss Ian. Mickey makes a vague humming noise. Liam takes that as agreement. He pats Mickey on his dark hair. “Good.”

Mickey laughs. Liam smiles in response.


End file.
